One person
by Miss Momolo
Summary: A short fan fiction based on the episode Prisoner of Sinestro. Warning: One-shot, I do not plan on continuing this! because the series does the shipping for me


**Declaimer: I do not own Green Lantern: The Animated Series. One-shot because the series does the shipping for me XD It was something that just came to me and so I wrote it down.**

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"I should have known you were not yourself."

"Why?"

"You expressed interest in spending time with me."

I do not know why but her words remind me of sinking ships in the galaxy. My heart is a ship and my stomach the galaxy. Instinct tells me to do something but something holds my tongue, tying me to this one place as she walks away. Arrogance. I will not allow myself to say that something as meaningless as a machine held anything on me. Which further feeds the cause that if I have any curiosity towards what I did while I was under the control of Noroxis to diminish. I did not want to know. Something voiced that, maybe, the reason to my misdirection is that there is a faint chance that I did want to witness it all for the possibility that I will instead of regretting something will do anything but.

The encountering hours that followed were also proceeded by the same grief I face when I am reminded of what I know and what I do not know. I know why I am angry. I know that I am alone. I know that I am not forlorn. I know that I am cheerless. I know that sometimes I am not reminded of my dismal. I know that she is dead. I know that she is somehow reborn. I know that she will always be preserved the same way in my mind as long as I held her in. I know that when I close my eyes she is not the same person. I know that they are different, two different people. I know that they will always be one person. I do not know why I am angry. I do not know why I am alone and I do not know why she tries hard to fill the time with her presence. I do not know why I'm cheerless and I do not know how, even if for an instant, she erases any trace of the reminder. I do not know how she did die, I only regret not being there when she did. I do not know how she lives again, even when she explains it a thousand times. I do not know how she will be conserved in my memory when every recollection is thrown away when my lids close and all I see is her again, dissimilar but her anyways. I do not know why they are different, two different people, why can't they be one person?

I let everyone believe that I wanted to be alone as I sit glaring at the empty space in front of me, arms crossed. This is true, I do want to have time to think, to figure out my entangling thoughts, maybe to find a name for all this. But I know that it will be useless without my brother Saint Walker to help me come to terms. It is all very frustrating.

Despite our earlier disagreement, she is situated behind me working on her own station. Regardless if she is pretending or doing both things at the same time I can feel holes forming in the back of my head where she is perfectly looking at. I want to turn around and tell her to stop but then she will know that I notice, and Hal and Kilowog, and I don't want more inconveniences. Maybe she fears that, even though her scans show no indication of injury caused by the lack of oxygen previously, there is something she missed. I would prefer it to be this for my own sake, thinking perhaps that she is mad would rule me out of an excuse to actually be mad myself. And where would that lead me? If she can actually feel there's no point anymore… and this is the only big difference between them both.

I was starting to reenter the grief again, with a thudding headache. Though as much as I wanted I had to relax. Wouldn't want her to catch any abnormalities on her vital scans, wouldn't want more inconveniences.

I sighed within a few more hours, standing to my feet. "I think I will retire to my corners, to have a quick rest."

"Tired already, poser?" I ignore Kilowog's comment.

"I think it's a good call, seeing today's circumstances," says Hal, briefly ignoring his projected game.

I left then before she said something too.

In my bed, I find myself wide wake. Not that I slept as regularly but I was tired. Or so I thought. Maybe I am just exhausted from the countless hours I held restraining my brain from wandering to places I didn't want to. Now, with no distraction I see the task at a higher risk. Inevitable.

I turn a few times before I give up, because refuse to say I caved in. But soon I realize that it is more difficult than trying to, since I don't remember anything. I curse and scratch my eyes until there's the possibility of them shutting close. Shorty, as I slump in my bed I see it, flashing in between my lids.

All I can see is her face, too close. I had never been this close. I remember being enjoyed with the discomfort in her face which only registers it so-so. Why does she look so uneasy? Then I frame my hand in her face, then her face becomes bigger as I lean. I do not know why but I anticipate the moment as if I were reliving it even though I am seeing it for the first time and I don't why but I'm angry when my vision shifts to the gun behind her.

"Razer?" her voice comes from the door as it slides open.

I choke on a gulp of air only then realizing that I was holding my breath. I balance myself on one arm as I sit on my bed trying to glare instead of gawking at her approaching outline.

"What is it, Aya?" I sound annoyed.

She looks down at me indifferent as she nears. "I am sorry if I interrupted your rest but there were some shifts in your breathing patterns and pulse that caused my attention. I just came to verify that everything was 'all right'."

"Yes," I try to appear insulted but I am sure all I seem is suspicious, "now can you leave."

Her expression is like stone, yet I see the slightest irritation. It's times like this that I wish I were like Hal and Kilowog, mindless to details that concern her. But it's so complicated when it all but eludes you to watch closely. I know that she knows this. The headache again and when I start to rub my temple she turns and heads for the door.

"Why do you avoid me?"

She had stop at the door but is not facing me. I feel like the ship again, and now she is like the galaxy. Endless and I know that what distresses me the most is that I will never truly sink. I will forever fall, hoping to find land in one final end or will drown, floating incessantly.

"You're not her," I say, more to myself.

I do not know how but I know that my words had made her sad. It brings me contradiction on how it's possible … but tell me how can anybody think under this conditions so.

She seems to know what I was talking about which further provokes my point. "I am aware of that. I am sorry you feel the need to compare us."

Somehow she turns the table. Her sadness is not at herself but at me. It shocks me. Of all people she was the least I had expected to feel pity for me and before I liked that she didn't because she treated me normally. Now, I can't think of a proper way to react.

"I apologize if you think I am avoiding you," I say gently and then without my understanding I spit the other, "I apologize you feel the need that I should spent time with you." Maybe I'm mad. Mad that she changed the way she thought of me. Mad that maybe she holds some reason behind what she'd said. That maybe she was right.

"You are misled, Razer. There is an error in the way you fathom information, for I am only a piece of machine."

"Why are you using my words against me?" I am growing angry, inpatient. "You know that was not what I meant."

Only her profile faces me. She says very slow, whispering, leaving me without a chance to reciprocate because yet again she walks out on me: "Why are you using her against me?"


End file.
